


The End

by Deifire



Series: Eerie Advent Calendar Challenge [26]
Category: Eerie Indiana, Z Nation (TV)
Genre: 666 Words, Canon-Typical Violence, Major Character Undeath, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 18:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12893718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deifire/pseuds/Deifire
Summary: It was always going to end this way.





	The End

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "The End" in the 2017 Eerie Advent Challenge.
> 
> Based on _that_ scene in _Z Nation_ 4.06.

It had taken longer than they thought to get everything working.

Long enough that rumors were already circulating that the zombie messiah lived somewhere in Indiana. But Dash X wasn't the guy they were looking for. True, he was demonstrably immune to the zombie virus—just one more piece of evidence that whatever he was, he wasn't human—but because of that, it wasn't like his particular immunity was going to do the human race any good.

What had stayed off the radar was much more important information. That Eerie, Indiana was home to the one surefire way out of this apocalypse.

It had taken them a long time to build another remote and get the portal at the Loyal Order of Corn working again. Long enough that Marshall had started to panic that somehow, someone would find out and stop them. Maybe those jerks at Camp Northern Light who were on the radio all the time and would probably blow it by broadcasting the whole thing to the world. Maybe Zona.

In the end, none of that happened. In the final moments, when Dash stood in his inner sanctum with the Order's now fully functional intergalactic zapping portal tuned to a planet he knew instinctually wasn't home but at least had breathable air and a temperate climate, he was alone.

Well, except for Marshall Teller, bound and gagged in a corner of the room.

"It was always going to end this way, wasn't it, Slick?" Dash said, almost conversationally, fiddling with the remote. 

Marshall snarled at him around the gag in his mouth, but otherwise said nothing.

Something kept up a slow, steady pounding at the door. Probably Simon or the others. 

Dash ignored it. No one could get in this place if he didn't let them.

"One of us was always going to go through this thing," he continued, monologuing like some villain out of a bad movie. Marshall still brought out the worst in him. "And it always made sense that it was going to be me. No matter what Ned said." 

Dash scowled at a memory that still stung. 

It made sense to go alone, he rationalized. To leave the members of the human race here on Earth. They were all infected, after all. Let them out into the wider universe and who knew what might happen? Dash was immune to the zombie virus, sure, but what else out there wasn't?

No, Dash wasn't going to be personally responsible for taking the Zombie Apocalypse Traveling Show intergalactic.

He supposed Marshall and Simon might be right. That somebody out there could help them. Some advanced civilization would know of a cure. Maybe someday, Dash could even bring help back. But given the state of the world now, what would be the point?

He put down the remote, picked up the shotgun he'd brought with him, and turned to face Marshall.

"It's been, what? Thirty years now?" he said to his former nemesis. "But I think we both knew it was always going to end this way."

It had taken longer than they thought to get everything working. Three days and one ill-timed attack by a horde of zombie sasquatch too long, in fact. 

Marshall snarled again. Dash searched his face for any sign the man he knew was still in there. But there was no attempt at a snarky response from the ashen-skinned living corpse in front of him. No righteous rage or even a spark of recognition in its glassy eyes. Just a small trickle of bloody saliva and brains dribbling from the gag in its mouth.

The pounding on the door intensified, but there was nothing Dash could do for Simon or the others now. Maybe Melanie Monroe and the rest of the gang still eking out an existence in the World O' Stuff would take care of them.

Dash lifted the shotgun and prepared to commit his final act on planet Earth.

"Marshall Teller," he said, "I give you mercy."


End file.
